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Tears fell from the sky. The mans black blazer slowly became saturated with droplets from the dark clouds above. He paused, only for a moment to check with his left palm that it was indeed rain. He couldn't help but grunt as he started forward again.

The streets of London began to empty as the man kept his pace and direction. North, the meeting was north. His dark suit grew heavier with every step. He knew he should have taken the time to get it water proofed. Random thoughts. He wandered if everyone had mental ADD, or something similar. He then trailed to thoughts about the brief case in hand, hoping the contents were not wet, that might sour them.

The padded leather shoes clicked as he wandered through deserted areas of the town, and eventually into the poverty stricken homes and gang territory.

He shook his head as he glanced at the silver watch on his wrist, he was late, but almost there.

The outskirts quickly came up, and there it was. A single cottage in the middle of a dirt field. Grungy, very grungy and with the rain the dirt had transformed into mud. He was less than excited about stepping in it.

It oozed out from beneath the Italian leather and he cringed a little. When his blue eyes looked up again there were a few men beginning to surround a small table near the entrance of the shack.

He quickened his pace and let the mud cover his lower half until he reached the table.

The first word spoken were from the man directly across from him."You're late."His thick English accent muddled the words. The man in black just smiled as the tone of voice conveyed anger and annoyance. He slowly brought the case up and laid it down upon the table very carefully. He turned it to face the English man before opening it very slowly to increase the drama.

A pleased look crept on the other man's face as he stared at the content. Then the man in black spoke."These Avtomat Kalashnikova 1947's are very easy to come by. They're cheap, they never jam and are extremely durable."The man in the black was Alexander Blaze. He was an arms dealer from Toronto. He was trying to sell these English rebels a large amount of AK-47's. Xander was strictly small time, this was the biggest deal he had pushed to date and, Christ was he excited.

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(sorry about how late this post is I got a job and I'm still adjusting to it.)

Dker Edgebreaker had just woken up. Sitting up in his bed his mind began to wander. He thought about when he left his hometown to start a living on his own. He lived a good ten years, after he turned twenty, as a traveling warrior. Fighting evil, helping people, and just kind of exploring the world. When he turned thirty he retired from traveling settling down in a small town. He opened a small blacksmith shop handling mostly small orders from town every once in a while making a weapon for a warrior or other class.Today he was turning thirty-five. Over the five years he has lived in this town he had become well known throughout the town. He was on friendly terms with everyone in town. He started to get up, just over four foot five he was of average hight for a dwarf. He walked over to a small mirror he had positioned in the middle of his wall bushing his shoulder length hair flat. He started brushing his long beard before putting his ties in it. He tied his beard up into three ponytails. One big in the middle framed by two smaller ones on the sides.

"Today&#39;s probably going to be like any other day."

He looked over at his old warrior armor he had hanging on the wall. Memories flooded into him as he looked at it. The armor still had its luster as if it was just made yesterday. The black and red on the body and trim hadn&#39;t faded a bit. Dker smile before putting on his normal wear, a pair of brown worker pants with a white shirt. He slipped his brown leather apron over his head before pulling his beard from out of under his shirt and apron. He slipped on his heavy leather boots and gloves and headed out to his anvil. He poured a pitcher of water over his anvil whipping it off. He grabbed some raw steal tossing it into the furnace before starting to stoke the fire.An axe hung above the anvil. A family heirloom that he used when he traveled. It looked a lot lighter then it really was, ordinary dwarf had to use two hands to wield this battle axe.

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